


All for One and Once Upon a Time

by Populaire7



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), The Musketeers (2014), d'Artagnan Romances (Three Musketeers Series) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Related, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-08-27 14:25:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16704172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Populaire7/pseuds/Populaire7
Summary: Rumplestiltskin has an older sister that he thought had forgotten him. d'Artagnan comes into his world and gains his trust and unexpectedly falls in love with a villain along the way.





	1. Prologue

The day d’Artagnan was born is not where the story should begin, but it’s only fair to her that we should start there.

 

There were two people present, other than d’Artagnan’s mother. Her fiancé, and a midwife. It wasn’t exactly the royal treatment, but it was more than Fiona could ask for.

 

Malcolm was too good to her. Willing to marry her even though the child straining to leave her body wasn’t his. With luck, the baby will look like her and not its actual father.

 

“I need you to push as soon as a pain comes,” the midwife instructed. As if on cue, Fiona’s body felt like it was on fire. She bore down for several seconds before she couldn’t go on. In a haze, Fiona heard the midwife say that the baby’s head had crowned. _Gods_ , Fiona thought. _There’s still so much of this baby left._

 

“I don’t think I can do this, Fiona sobbed. All she wanted was to rest.

“Yes you can, Fiona. You’re nearly there.” Malcolm gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She hadn’t originally wanted him there. It wasn’t fair for him to be present for the birth of her bastard. Now, Fiona was grateful beyond words for his support.

 

She was about to offer a thankful smile when a contraction came and Fiona pushed. _This baby better be worth this pain._

 

“Halfway there!” Fiona looked at the midwife’s face for any clues, but the older woman’s face was stoically neutral. _Damn._

 

Almost immediately after, the last contraction came, and with it, a baby. A real, living, screaming baby.

 

“It’s a girl,” the midwife informed the unlikely couple as she hurriedly cut the umbilical cord and cleaned the infant up. The midwife laid the baby on Fiona’s chest and the mother’s first impressions were more critical than they should have been.

 

The baby was tiny. Yet, the screams she had emitted earlier were the screams of a much older child. Fiona found it ironic.

 

“What are you going to name her, dearie?” Malcolm asked, slowly bringing his eyes from the baby to the mother.

 

Fiona honestly hadn’t thought about what to name the child. She had bitterly hoped the child wouldn’t live. But looking at the infant she had pushed into the world, some otherworldly feeling came over her.

 

“Her name is d’Artagnan,” Fiona announced. Artagnan was a faraway town the baby’s father had told her about. He promised to take her there one day, but he had left without so much as a proper goodbye. This _thing_ that he had left her represented all that was taken away from her. And Fiona was going to make damn sure that her daughter didn’t forget it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what y'all think. Follow my tumblr phantom-of-notre-dame-7 for updates!


	2. Chapter 1

d’Artagnan always knew that her stepfather didn’t like her. She just never realized how much until the day Rumplestiltskin turned six.

 

She had spent weeks trying to gather the right straw and sewing clothes for a doll. The sewing was easy, it was stealing the straw from The Farmer’s barn that was challenging. The Farmer’s property was too far out of the way for d’Artagnan to come up with good reasons. Her stepfather would always ask  _ Why would an eight-year-old want to spend so much time there? _ Luckily, d’Artagnan had proven to be quite the pickpocket. One had to be when their guardian drank and gambled away the family’s slim wages.

 

The doll was in itself no child’s dream, but Stiltskin loved simple things. Yet she knew he was going to make something of himself.

 

d’Artagnan hid the doll in a box under her bed. This box held everything she held dear. Her entire life was in that box: keepsakes, some coins. Pitiful by anyone’s standards, but d’Artagnan didn’t care.

 

〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜

 

When d’Artagnan woke, the sky was that dark gray in the first hours of sunrise. Light enough to be considered morning, but still dark as all get out. She sat up to see Rumplestiltskin sleeping soundly. Like every child, he suffered from nightmares. But Stiltskin’s nightmares seemed more distressing than endlessly falling or a monster. Well, the siblings  _ did _ dream about monsters, but they seemed very human-like.

 

d’Artagnan and Rumplestiltskin always talked to each other about their dreams. The boy was so shy, and he looked up to d’Artagnan. It was good for him to see her afraid.

 

d’Artagnan was about to doze off when the cottage door burst open. Malcolm stumbled in with a bottle in hand, groaning and muttering some unintelligible nonsense.

 

Malcolm’s abrasive entrance startled Rumplestiltskin from the first peaceful sleep he had had in a week. His nightmares were taking a toll on him.

 

“Shh! Malcolm!” d’Artagnan whisper-shouted as she leapt out of bed. She wished he had waited a few hours if he was going to come back at all.  _ No, it’s bad to want him to leave _ , the little voice in d’Artagnan’s head chided.  _ He takes care of you and Stiltskin. Without him, you two would be separated. _ d’Artagnan ignored the voice and rushed to help Malcolm settle as quietly as possible.

 

“What do you want, demon?” Malcolm grumbled. “Demon” had become his nickname for his stepdaughter after a baby Rumplestiltskin had babbled “bastard” after hearing Malcolm say it 20 times a day.

 

“Please, Malcolm. Please let Rumplestiltskin sleep.” d’Artagnan kept her eyes glued to the cottage floor. She was terrified of asking for necessities. Asking for him to be courteous was dangerous.

 

“It’s alright, Tanny. I’m awake.” d’Artagnan turned to see Rumplestiltskin getting out of his own bed. His small frame wasn’t exactly bony, but the poor boy could definitely eat more. d’Artagnan reminded herself to smuggle more supplies than usual from the market. It would be risky, but d’Artagnan would lay down her life for Rumplestiltskin.

 

“See, demon? The boy’s already up. Quit your nagging.” Malcolm stumbled over to the table to finish his bottle. Rumplestiltskin began to say something, but thought better of it. d’Artagnan admired her little brother for trying to defend her, but it never turned out well. d’Artagnan just ended up more hurt.

 

“Papa. today’s my birthday. I’m six.” Rumplestiltskin gave a shy smile. Malcolm adored Rumplestiltskin, so the boy played that to his advantage whenever he was afraid of what his father might do.

 

“That’s right, my boy. I was out celebrating for you.” Malcolm tries to take a final swig, but the bottle is already empty. It falls flat and rolls off the table.

 

“Aw, shit,” Malcolm grumbles. “Fiona, clean up this mess.” He looked around for someone who everyone knew wasn’t there. Malcolm used to call for Fiona every day. Now, it was rare for the children’s dead mother to suddenly be resurrected in the drunk’s imagination.

 

“Children, go outside and play while I clean this up.” d’Artagnan and Rumplestiltskin scurried out of the cottage before Malcolm could change his mind.

  
  



	3. Chapter 2

d’Artagnan thought that the rest of Rumplestiltskin’s birthday was going great. Some pickpocketed fruit and a puppet show and the boy was all smiles. They even stopped by The Farm to say hello to the animals. The Farmer gave Rumplestiltskin two silver pieces.

 

“Now, you try to save those for something worthwhile, ya hear?”

“Yes, sir!” Rumplestiltskin replied gleefully.

 

The Farmer was the best man d’Artagnan knew. He paid her to help feed the animals and had taught her to sew. d’Artagnan had often thought of her and her brother running away to live on The Farm and be with the horses and pigs and sheep all day long. But, Stiltskin would miss his father too much.

 

d’Artagnan didn’t think of her own father much. She used to make the mistake of calling Malcolm “Papa” when she was first learning to talk, but some blood-drawing pinches stopped that as soon as it began.

 

d’Artagnan and Rumplestiltskin said their goodbyes to The Farmer and his animals and hurried back to the cottage. d’Artagnan was surprised to see the cottage in decent shape. Malcolm was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Stiltskin, hide your coins.”

“Why?”

“Just do it,” d’Artagnan replied curtly. Malcolm wasn’t above taking any money he could find. That’s why d’Artagnan hid her money in the box under her bed. He wouldn’t come near her things for fear of being cursed.

 

Malcolm burst in with loaves of bread and wheels of cheese.

 

“There he is! My birthday man.” Malcolm seemed to have sobered up, but his eyes were still a little glazed. “How was your day, dearie?”

 

“Oh Papa, it was wonderful! The puppet show was so funny and the horses ate out of my hand! It tickled, but I didn’t mind.”

 

“Well, it seems like you had a great time. And what about you, demon? Did you get into trouble?” Malcolm’s change in tone stung. If d’Artagnan did run away, would her stepfather even notice?

 

“No, sir. I was good.”

“Were you?”

“Yes, I promise.” d’Artagnan hated when her questioned her like that. There were times when it didn’t matter if she she was telling the truth or not (she always was), Malcolm would hit her. He thankfully decided to leave her alone this time.

 

“I have a present for you, Rumple.” d’Artagnan hated that nickname for her brother. Rumplestiltskin didn’t seem to mind. Malcolm set the food on the table and took a small box from his pocket. Rumplestiltskin’s face lit up. d’Artagnan loved seeing him so happy.

 

The boy ripped open the box to reveal a thimble. It was so plain.

 

“I love it! What is it?”

 

“It’s a kiss, dearie. Whenever I’m not with you, just look at your thimble and know it’s a kiss from me.” Malcolm could seem kind when he wanted to.

 

“I love it, Papa! Thank you.” Rumplestiltskin hugged his father.

“Do you have a gift for me, d’Artagnan?”

 

“Of course I do, sweetheart. Let me get it.” d’Artagnan scurried to her special box. When she opened the box, the doll was gone.

 

I don’t understand. It was in here.” d’Artagnan began to panic. No one knew about her box. Who could have stolen it? Her immediate assumption was that Malcolm had gotten into it, but the money was still there.

 

“You don’t have a present for your brother?” Malcolm growled.

“I… I made one. I put it in here to keep it safe. Stiltskin, I swear I didn’t forget.”

“It’s okay, d’Artagnan. I still had a great day.”

 

Despite his best attempt to reassure her, Rumplestiltskin’s face looked so dejected.

 

“It’s not okay, Rumple. This is a special day.” Malcolm stormed across the room and dragged d’Artagnan out the cottage’s back door.

 

“Papa, don’t!” Rumplestiltskin yelled as he followed his father.

“Stay inside, Rumple! You don’t need to see this.” Malcolm pushed his son inside and closed the door before the boy could react.

 

“Listen here, you little bitch,” Malcolm quietly sneered. “I couldn’t have you getting Rumple a present like that. Makes him think you care about him more than I do.”

d’Artagnan quipped back, “I  _ do _ care about him more.”

 

“Shut up!” Malcolm rewarded her bravery with a slap to the face. “You don’t understand how much he needs me,” Malcolm continued. “You’ll never be worth anything. You cursed your mother into leaving.

 

The insults continued, and so did the beatings.


	4. Chapter 3

The next two years were dreadful for d’Artagnan. Malcolm’s hostility made d’Artagnan afraid. Not only for her own life, but for Rumplestiltskin’s life. Malcolm quit trying to poison the boy’s thoughts of his older sister.

 

d’Artagnan’s enemies began to extend beyond her stepfather. The village children were cruel the way children can be. They picked on Rumplestiltskin for being small, and on d’Artagnan for being weird.

 

Things had been… happening that d’Artagnan could explain. Something would fall off the table without her touching it, she almost burned down The Farmer’s barn when there wasn’t any fire nearby. d’Artagnan didn’t make a big deal out of it. If Malcolm knew she had supernatural abilities… 

 

Magic was pretty commonplace in this world. However, it wasn’t always considered an acceptable profession, especially for a bastard girl. d’Artagnan had things she knew she was good at. But it would be such a long time before she grew up. d’Artagnan had more important problems, like planning to run away with her brother.

 

〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜

 

d’Artagnan didn’t know where they would go. She thought they might go to a sea town. The villagers said that merfolk would sometimes show up and grant wishes to those who fed them. d’Artagnan didn’t really believe that, but Rumplestiltskin’s eyes would light up when he heard of the merfolk and their shining tails.

 

After the doll incident, Malcolm stole almost all of d’Artagnan’s money before she moved the box from under her bed to The Farmer’s barn. The siblings could survive for a few months if d’Artagnan couldn’t find work. The idea of a 10-year-old with a steady job might be unsettling, but d’Artagnan would have done just about anything to make sure Rumplestiltskin survived.

 

〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜

 

_ Fuck. _ d’Artagnan’s mind was racing.  _ That did *not* go according to plan. I’ll have to come back for Stiltskin. _ The only thing that mattered now was getting the box. Her whole world was in that box. If she’s lucky, she might get to say goodbye to The Farmer. He was a kind soul; he deserved an explanation.

 

Then again, when was d’Artagnan ever lucky?

 

Out of nowhere, the earth opened up to reveal a bright green… vortex? d’Artagnan wasn’t sure how to describe it. Luckily, she didn’t have much time to think about it, for the vortex swallowed her whole. Then it disappeared just as quickly as it had materialized.


	5. Chapter 4

When d’Artagnan woke, it was morning. She was in a forest, but not one she recognized. She heard birds and a river.  _ Water. _ That was d’Artagnan’s best chance of surviving, hopefully finding a village.

 

d’Artagnan found the river and quickly drank it dry. In her rush to escape, she stupidly forgot food and supplies. d’Artagnan raised her head to the foreign sky. She had a few days until it would rain.

 

“For once, I might be lucky enough to have time.” d’Artagnan looked around for someone to direct her message to. There was no one, and nothing. She didn’t think it was possible to feel more alone, but here she was in a strange land.

 

“Fuck, what if I look foreign?” d’Artagnan’s dark hair, brown skin, and green eyes were an odd appearance, even back home. Malcolm said she took after her mother, except for her eyes. “Your eyes belong to whatever cuntbag sired you.”

 

“We’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” d’Artagnan decided to finally get up and find civilization.  _ I have to find shelter before nightfall. _

 

〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜

 

The forest’s path was fucking endless.  _ Please, for the love of the gods, please let me find people soon. _ Hunger wasn’t a new thing to d’Artagnan, but it would be unbearable soon. She wasn’t going to take a chance with the berries and mushrooms she saw. And she wasn’t a skilled hunter.

 

It seemed like hours went by before d’Artagnan heard the distant sound of hooves and wheels and  _ people _ . d’Artagnan began running towards the sounds as if her life depended on it. Which it did.

 

d’Artagnan lost her footing and tripped over a root. She rolled down a slope and ungracefully landed in front of a man and his son. The pair almost assumed she had died, but they heard a soft wheezing.

 

d’Artagnan stirred out of her haze to see a young man running to help her. She screamed and scrambled to stand. The men spoke to (assumingly) reassure her, but the sounds were nonsensical. She was afraid to speak. What if they were speaking clearly and it was her mind that was addled.

 

The men spoke again after it was clear that she did not understand.

“It’s alright. What is your name?” the older man asked.

“Oh, thank the gods.” d’Artagnan whispered. “My name… my name is d’Artagnan.

 

“Good, you speak English!” said the older man. His eyes were kind. d’Artagnan hoped she could trust him.

 

“What is English?”

“Well, it’s… it’s the language we are speaking,” the younger one replied. d’Artagnan thought he was a man, but he couldn’t have been more than 15.

 

“Oh. Where I come from, our language doesn’t have a name.”

“Are you lost, child?” The older man asked.

“Yes. I don’t know how I got here. I was walking and the ground opened up… I know it’s ridiculous.”

 

They would think she was mad if she continued. She had heard of the Land Without Magic. Was that where she was?

 

“Where are you from?” the younger one tore d’Artagnan from her thoughts. He had the same dark hair as d’Artagnan, but his skin wasn’t as brown. He had the same kind eyes as his father, but they were much darker.

 

“I come from a place called Misthaven.” If she was in a place with no magic, saying she was from The Enchanted Forest would get her nowhere.

 

“Misthaven? Is that in England?” The look of concern on the older man’s face frightened d’Artagnan. What if they weren’t as kind as they appeared?

 

“I don’t think so? Wh… where am I? d’Artagnan was still woozy from her fall. Her confusion wasn’t entirely an act.

  
“You’re in France… Are you hungry? We have some spare food.” The older one held out his hand.  _ France? What the fuck is a France? _ No matter. Food was d’Artagnan’s top priority. She walked toward the man and his son and took the outstretched hand.


	6. Chapter 5

“My name’s Charles d’Herblay. And this is my son, Aramis.” She tried not to devour the bread and cheese she had been given. She may be hungry, but she still had manners.

 

“I can’t thank you enough, Charles. Both of you.”

“What were you doing so far from home?”

d’Artagnan froze. She was still afraid of what they might do. However, she was beginning to trust them. Trust was new for her.

 

“Aramis, don’t pry. You’re scaring her.”

“No. It’s alright. I, I had to leave because it wasn’t safe. I’ll have to go back to Misthaven soon, though. I have a younger brother. He’s only eight. I can’t leave him alone.”

“Well, when you fetch him, you can bring him here with us.”

 

If d’Artagnan had not been in the middle of the cart’s bench, she would have fallen off in shock.

“Charles, I couldn’t possibly… we could stay?

“Of course, d’Artagnan. You’re family now. It’s a sign from God.”

 

_ God? They only have one here? They must think very highly of this God. _

 

d’Artagnan turned to Aramis on her left. Charles just announced a big fucking change to his life. He did not seem to upset or surprised, even. However, it would take time for the two of them to be friends.

 

“You know, there’s a town called Artagnan about a day’s ride from Béarn, our home. Perhaps we could go there sometime.” Aramis was willing to spend time with her? He was not unattractive. He made her blush.

 

“Maybe. My mother named me out of spite. At least, that’s what my stepfather always said.” She didn’t mean to dampen the mood.

 

Due to the awkward silence d’Artagnan caused, she was able to hear the sloshing in the barrels that were strapped in the cart.

 

“What’s in those barrels?” d’Artagnan asked, already knowing the answer.

 

“It’s just some wine and mead. I’m a brewmaster.”  _ Are they mean drunks? Was this a bad idea? _ The sound of the river distracted d’Artagnan.

 

“This river. What is it called?”

“ _ Le Midouze _ ,” Charles replied.

“The Le Midouze? It’s a nice name.” This made Charles and Aramis laugh.

 

“Don’t worry, d’Artagnan. We’ll teach you French.” This was Aramis’ acceptance of d’Artagnan. This was the moment d’Artagnan accepted the d’herblay family and France as her own.


	7. Chapter 6

The d’Herblay house was the grandest thing d’Artagnan had ever seen. She almost didn’t believe stairs existed, except in palaces. But here, right in front of her, was a stairwell.

 

“Holy shit,” d’Artagnan whispered. She hadn’t meant for the others to hear, but Aramis turned to her in shock. She was worried he would rat her out, but he only leaned forward to whisper “It’ll be our secret.” in her ear.

 

“d’Artagnan, come. I want to show you our land.” Charles led her outside to the most beautiful scenery d’Artagnan had ever seen. Mountains overlooked the forest.

 

“It’s beautiful.” She thought how much Rumplestiltskin would love it here.

 

“Do you have any other horses? Or just the two?”

“We have three others in the barn.”

“I love horses. I used to work for a farmer, back in Misthaven.”

“Do you ride?”

“No. The Farmer always said I was too small.”

“Well, we’ll have to teach you. Horseback riding is one of the world’s greatest pleasures.”

 

_ French and horseback riding. What an education. _

 

“I’m looking forward to it.”

 

d’Artagnan was beginning to feel overwhelmed. Here were these strangers offering her their home.

 

“Charles, I don’t understand. Why have you and your son been so kind? I don’t deserve it.”

“God tells us to love our neighbors and take care of them. We couldn’t leave a hungry child to the cold.”

“This God of yours… it sounds almost unreal.”

“Faith in Him can be a difficult thing. We won’t expect anything from you.”

 

_ Of course this God is a man. _

 

                          〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜

 

Later that evening, d’Artagnan asked to see a map of this world she had stumbled upon. Hopefully she was close to The Enchanted Forest. Yet, as soon as Charles unrolled a map of this continent called Europe, d’Artagnan’s worst fears were confirmed: there was no going back to The Enchanted Forest. She had lost Rumplestiltskin forever.

 

d’Artagnan was inconsolable for three days. And Aramis, her new brother, was there to comfort her.


	8. Chapter 7

The next few weeks were difficult to handle. Aramis and Charles were teaching her French, horseback riding, and how to run the brewery. d’Artagnan tried to be a good student, but she was in no way cut out to be a brewmaster. She refused to touch wine, beer, mead, any of it. The d’Herblays seemed to know moderation, but she didn’t want to take chances. d’Artagnan didn’t know a time when she hadn’t been afraid.

 

d’Artagnan had met Isabelle, a close friend of Aramis’. Isabelle was pretty. It was obvious that they liked each other. d’Artagnan had quickly gotten over  her infatuation of Aramis. She grew to care for him like a brother. He protected her from village bullies and even taught her how to fight. How Aramis learned to fight like this, d’Artagnan didn’t know. Last time she asked too many questions, Malcolm rewarded her with a black eye. d’Artagnan learned from her mistakes.

  
The only thing that d’Artagnan found familiar about her new life in Béarn was the lack of a mother. Charles refused to talk about it; Aramis wouldn’t say much either. From what Aramis  _ did _ share, his mother lived near Paris. Aramis had lived with his father for nine-and-a-half years. d’Artagnan sensed a little bitterness and resentment.  _ What is it about fathers and their capacity to fuck everything up? _


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> d'Artagnan is quickly settling into her life in France, but Aramis gives a surprise announcement that threatens to ruin her newfound home.

After those first months, it was as if d’Artagnan had been French all along. She learned Spanish and German almost as quickly as she had learned French. She read every book she could get her hands on. The only one she couldn’t touch was the Bible. It was written in something called Latin, and only “men of the cloth” could read it. Just as well, European religion was beyond baffling. In The Enchanted Forest, the gods didn’t care about the people, and vice versa. In Europe, you could be killed if you weren’t unwaveringly loyal to this God.

 

Aramis, on the other hand, was devout. He always said that is he wasn’t madly in love with Isabelle, he would be a priest. Aramis must have loved Isabelle, because a year after d’Artagnan of Misthaven became d’Artagnan d’Herblay, Isabelle announced she was going to have a baby.

 

“Aramis, are you out of your fucking mind?! What were you thinking?” d’Artagnan had never seen Charles so angry. d’Artagnan was just as surprised.  _ Aramis is only 16. What makes him think he could raise a child? _

 

“Papa, please. I’ll marry her. I’ll make it right.” Aramis promised.

“Marriage? Don’t I get a say?” Isabelle worried. As Charles’ unofficial apprentice, Isabelle was practically a member of the family. Despite that, Isabelle was just as much of a child as Aramis or d’Artagnan. One thing was for certain: d’Artagnan didn’t envy anyone in the room.

 

〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜

 

The argument soon didn’t matter, because a month later, Isabelle lost the baby. Aramis wanted to speak to her, but Isabelle’s father told him she had left and refused to say where she was. It was d’Artagnan’s turn to comfort Aramis. Charles became cold and distant. This rift would heal, but it would take time.

 

〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜 

 

Aramis and Charles did reconcile, but the relationship between father and son remained strained. d’Artagnan thought that if it wasn’t for her, the two wouldn’t even speak to each other.

 

Charles had begun to spend more time in his brewery. d’Artagnan, now age 12, threatened to burn the brewery down if Charles didn’t promise to be productive.

 

“You’re not the first alcoholic I’ve dealt with, Papa d’Herblay.” “Papa d’Herblay” was the compromise they had come up with. “Charles” was too formal for him, and “Papa” was too casual for her.

 

“My stepfather drank,” d’Artagnan continued. “He was mean when he was drunk. I’ve gotten more than my fair share of black eyes and burn marks.” d’Artagnan was trying to be assertive, but she was too small to be threatening.”

 

“I could let you go down the same path, but I can defend myself better now. I care about you and Aramis too much to let you ruin it.” d’Artagnan didn’t like crying. Her nose and face got all red. It wasn’t pretty. But d’Artagnan couldn’t help but let a few tears escape.

 

“I’m still a brewmaster, d’Artagnan.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean you can drink away your entire inventory.” Charles replied by nodding and setting his tankard down.

 

“You Misthaven girls are stubborn as fuck.”

“That’s not fair. You only know one Misthaven girl. I’m not a good example… Papa d’Herblay?”

“Yes, d’Artagnan?”

“I’m sorry for threatening to burn down your brewery.”

“It’s fine. I probably deserved it, anyway.”

No, you  _ definitely _ deserved it.”

“Ha, ha. Come here.” Charles had opened his arms and d’Artagnan happily hugged her foster father.

 

“I love you, Papa d’Herblay.”

“I love you too,  _ mija _ ,” Charles replied sweetly.

 

d’Artagnan was pretty sure that was the first time she had said “I love you” to anyone. She wished she could see Rumplestiltskin again, even if it was for one minute, just to tell him that she loved him.

 

“Will you please talk to Aramis, Papa d’Herblay?”

“I did. We forgave each other,” Charles confusedly replied.

“No, you didn’t. Not really. Aramis’ pride is something he gets from you. The two of you need to forgive each other. Truly forgive,” d’Artagnan emphasized as Charles rolled his eyes.

  
“Fine. For you,  _ mija _ , I would climb the mountains.” Charles’ slight Spanish accent was endearing. For once d’Artagnan had a family who truly looked out for her. For once, d’Artagnan was happy.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> d'Artagnan is visited by a monster who she thought she would never see again.

That night, 12-year-old d’Artagnan had her first nightmare in six months.

 

A shadow was chasing her. It was horrifying with its glowing eyes. The shadow grabbed her and flew higher than the clouds. d’Artagnan couldn’t see anything until the shadow dropped her on a forest floor.

 

For a moment, d’Artagnan thought that she was back in The Enchanted Forest. But the energy of this place seemed different, more… sinister. The shadow was still flying above her, its eyes frightened her.

 

“Where am I? What is this place?” she demanded.

The shadow whispered in reply “Pan wishes to speak with you.”

“Who the fuck is Pan?” d’Artagnan questioned.

 

“Now, d’Artagnan. That’s no the way a young lady should speak.” d’Artagnan looked up to see a boy flying down.  _ Gods, does everyone fucking fly here? _

 

The boy was almost as tall as she was. d’Artagnan thought he looked familiar, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.

 

“I’ll ask again: Who. The  _ fuck _ . Are you?” d’Artagnan wasn’t in the mood to play games. She wanted her bed, her home in Béarn.

 

“Come on, demon. You don’t recognize me?” He raised his eyebrows in fake shock and hurt.

 

d’Artagnan froze. Only then did she see the boy’s blue eyes and see who he was.

 

“M…  _ Malcolm _ ?” She couldn’t believe it. It was impossible.  _ It has to be impossible. _

“I know, I know. You have questions.” She didn’t think it was possible, but this younger version of her stepfather seemed cockier. His smug, carefree expression was sickening.

 

“Where is Rumplestiltskin?” She glanced up at the shadow, searching its features for some sign of her brother.

“Relax, demon. He’s still in The Enchanted Forest. I left him with those spinsters, the wool spinners. You remember them?”

 

She did. They were kind enough. d’Artagnan had never spoken to them, not really. But they were good guardians for Stiltskin.

 

“Where are we then, if not The Enchanted Forest?”

“It’s called Neverland,” Malcolm replied.

“Neverland? That story you used to tell Rumplestiltskin?”

“It was never a story.” d’Artagnan sat down as she tried to wrapt her head around all of this.

 

“I cannot believe you abandoned Rumplestiltskin. Your own son, Malcolm.”

“Malcolm is gone now! There is just Peter Pan.”  _ That’s a stupid ass name _ , d’Artagnan thought.  _ Of course he chose it. It’s perfect for him. _

 

“Do you want to see your brother? I can show you where he is.” Pan smiled maliciously. They both knew it was bait. d’Artagnan decided to take it, if only for Stiltskin.

 

“Show me.”

Pan smiled and gestured to a well that d’Artagnan hadn’t noticed before. She stood and walked over to where Pan and the well were. He made and exaggerated bow and suddenly the well’s water rippled and changed. d’Artagnan gasped as she say a 10-year-old Rumplestiltskin. He had changed so much in two years.

 

“How long has he been alone?”

“About two-and-a-half years.” d’Artagnan looked up at the well to stare at her stepfather. Rumplestiltskin lost his sister and his father one right after the other.

 

“It’s your fault that he’s alone, demon d’Artagnan.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you hadn’t so selfishly left--”

“You know damn well why it’s not my fault. You  _ wanted _ me to leave. How dare you pin it on me, you fucking bastard.”

“d’Artagnan! I hadn’t realized those Frenchmen tolerated your mouth.”

“Those Frenchmen have been kinder to me than you ever were.” d’Artagnan looked back at the well to see Rumplestiltskin spinning wool. He seemed to be good at it.

 

“Why did you bring me here, Pan?”

“To show you that I won.”

“... What?”

“You have lost Rumple, and you can’t ever give him back.”

“You brought me here… to fucking gloat?”

 

Pan did nothing save to wave d’Artagnan away. The shadow plucked her off the ground yet again. d’Artagnan flew away cursing her stepfather’s name.

〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜

 

d’Artagnan woke up in a sweat and in tears. Aramis and Charles had heard her sobs. d’Artagnan once thought that the d’Herblays would kick her out because of the frequency and noise of her nightmares. Now, this nightmare that was so real brought those fears back. However, instead of turning her out, Aramis and Charles soothed her back to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

When Aramis and d’Artagnan arrived, Charles was there to greet them.

 

“How was your ride,  _ mis niños _ ?” Charles asked as he helped his adopted daughter down from Henri the horse.

“Fantastic,” d’Artagnan replied as her feet landed on the ground.

“Good. I am going to make today the best birthday yet.”

“You don’t have to do that, Papa d’Herblay.”

“Of course I do. You’re 13 today. It’s important. You’re practically grown.” The look on Charles’ face was one d’Artagnan still wasn’t used to. She hadn’t had a name for it at first, but now she knew what it was:  _ Pride _ .

 

Charles d’Herblay was proud  of her, even though she wasn’t his daughter by blood. To say that d’Artagnan was grateful for her family that she found on accident would be an understatement. Despite her best attempts. d’Artagnan began to cry. This resulted in something d’Artagnan learned was called a “group hug.” She was surrounded by warmth and love. d’Artagnan was content.

 

**〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜**

 

d’Artagnan spent the rest of the day being the center of attention, much to her embarrassment. She celebrated with her family and friends. French children were so different than Misthaven children. Misthaven children were bitter, while French children were content with what they had. Well, Béarn children, at least. According to the villagers, Parisians were unhappy. “ _ All that glamour and they can’t appreciate it. _ ” d’Artagnan didn’t know much about Paris, except that the king lived there.

 

This king was young, Charles had said. He became king when he was a child and married a Spanish princess at fourteen. d’Artagnan didn’t envy him. Rulers of the Enchanted Forest didn’t marry off their children for political gain. Most of them were kind and generous leaders.

 

d’Artagnan had always lived a simple life. She preferred it, and would do anything to keep it that way.

 

Her day ended as it began: warm, and with joy.


	12. Chapter 10

Today was d’Artagnan’s 13th birthday. She hadn’t wanted to make a big deal of her previous birthdays, but the d’Herblay men insisted on celebrating. Even the farm workers celebrated.

 

d’Artagnan’s birthday was during what was called March, or  _ Mars _ in the native French. Time was so different in the Enchanted Forest. More focus was on the seasons. No matter. d’Artagnan felt that she had fully adapted to her new home. If only Rumplestiltskin could enjoy it with her.

 

d’Artagnan’s birthday began with a horseback ride. Henri, her horse, was the most magnificent creature. He could have been born with wings and he would remain the fastest horse. Aramis and Pierre (the second d’Herblay horse) could barely keep up. The pairs raced through the woods, going nowhere in particular. The eventually made their way to the lake that sat at the bottom of the Pyrenees mountains. Aramis and d’Artagnan often went there during the summer months. The day was unusually warm for March, so the unlikely siblings took advantage of the good weather.

 

“Have you had anymore nightmares, d’Artagnan?”

“Not yet. What about you?” While his nightmares weren’t as frequent, they were as severe. It had been three weeks since Malcolm… since  _ Pan _ … had tortured her for the last time.

“Two weeks since the last one. Do you think we’ll be able to break our record?”

“It’s too early to tell, but I think we can beat six months,” d’Artagnan replied.

“Care to wager on that?” Aramis broke out in a cocky grin. That grin made half the girls in Béarn swoon, not to mention the men and married women he drew in. After Isabelle had left, Aramis’ list of lovers had grown. d’Artagnan didn’t understand why an 18-year-old needed so many lovers. Perhaps to cope?

 

d’Artagnan responded to his bet by finishing tying up her horse and walking up to Aramis until she stood toe-to-toe with him. With a smirk of her own, d’Artagnan pushed Aramis into the lake. To say Aramis was graceful in that moment would be incorrect. Only when he finally sat up, sputtering, did she speak.

 

“You know I don’t gamble, Aramis.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get it.”

“Not if you can’t catch me. And with this little cliff in the way, I have an advantage.” d’Artagnan enjoyed being so high up. That didn’t stop Aramis from scaling the cliff. d’Artagnan ran, giggling. Aramis might be fast, but she was faster.

 

When d’Artagnan looked back, Aramis seemed far. But he must have been closer than she thought, for Aramis had caught her. d’Artagnan gave a delighted shriek. They were soon at the cliff’s edge.

“No, Aramis! Don’t.”

“It’s only fair.” Aramis lifted the new teenager with ease and threw her into the lake.

 

The cold water was numbing. d’Artagnan swam to the surface to see Aramis laughing heartily. Had this moment happened when d’Artagnan first came to swim, they would not have been so cheerful. Charles had taught her to swim. He had taught her everything.

 

“Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you get to be a bully.”

“Of course it does. It’s the very definition of an older brother.”

“What does that make little sisters?”

“An endearing pain in the ass.” With that, Aramis jumped in the lake.

 

“Fuck you!” d’Artagnan said as she splashed Aramis.

“Love you, too,” Aramis replied.

 

**〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜** \

 

Aramis and d’Artagnan took their time getting back. They had basked in the early morning sun in their underclothes. They had braided each other’s dark, curly hair and spoke of everything and nothing. d’Artagnan had wondered if she and Rumplestiltskin and Aramis would have all gotten along. She had changed so much in the last two years and ten months, her younger brother had to have changed as well. If they ever saw each other again, would they even recognize each other?

 

“Hey, daydreamer. Focus.” Aramis snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.

“What?”

“I said we have to get back. Father’s expecting us.” Aramis stood.

“Right. Let’s go, then.” d’Artagnan rose.  _ I’m going to enjoy this day. I deserve to. Don’t I? _

  
The pair changed back into their dry clothes and rode home.  _ Home. _


	13. Chapter 12

d’Artagnan thought her bad luck had finally turned around. However, on that cool October morning, her lucky streak ran out.

 

d’Artagnan hadn’t toyed with her magic since she came to France. If some devout Catholic found out, she would be burned alive. She hadn’t even told the d’Herblays for the same fear. She would, one day.

 

She had decided to try her hand at materialization. Nothing too difficult ,just an apple. The first attempts hadn’t been hopeful, but Charles had taught her nothing if not to be optimistic. She focused on everything an apple was. The skin, the sweet insides, the stem, the leaves. She even imagined a worm in there.  _ No, not a worm _ , that familiar voice chided.  _ We want the apple to be delicious. _ After a few seconds of deep concentration, it appeared. An apple. A shiny apple. d’Artagnan had done it! This gift had never been useful. Perhaps she could resort to party tricks, like Malcolm had done. No. d’Artagnan might be a lot of things, but a cheating thief wasn’t one of them.

 

d’Artagnan gave the apple to Henri the horse when she noticed someone in the corner of her eye.  _ Dior. Shit! _

 

Dior was an unusually nosy child. She questioned everything d’Artagnan did, from her decision to wear boys’ clothes to where she came from in the first place. Dior’s parents were convinced that d’Artagnan was a witch. However, Charles was respected enough in the community that nothing came of it.

 

“Dior, what are you doing here?” d’Artagnan tried to downplay her panic.

“I- I was going to ask you to come play…” Dior had a speech impediment similar to the one all children have. Sometimes d’Artagnan if she even knew French, because a child’s French was almost its own language.

 

“You’re a witch.”

“Of course I’m not, why would you say that?”

“ _ Le, le pomme _ … it wasn’t there… before.” Dior was shaking. This could turn into a crisis.

“I was hiding it. In my pocket.”  _ Dior, you stupid child. _

“No you weren’t. The apple appeared out of thin air! I- I’m telling  _ Maman _ !” Dior ran.

“No, Dior. Come back!”  _ Fuck. Fuck shit dammit. _ Dior had never been a fast girl, but now she was as fast as a horse.

 

Dior disappeared into the woods as d’Artagnan collided into Charles.

“Why the hurry,  _ mija _ ?” d’Artagnan’s panic became too much.

“I ruined it. I ruined everything,” she muttered.

“d’Artagnan, breathe. What happened? What mischief has Dior gotten into?”

 

Charles had an amused look on his face.  _ Should I tell him? He wouldn’t let anything happen to me. _ ”

 

  
Dior found something out that I’ve tried to hide since I came here.” d’Artagnan’s hands started shaking.

“d’Artagnan, you know you can tell me anything. You’re worrying em.” He got down to meet her at eye level.

Papa d’Herblay was right to worry. d’Artagnan didn’t worry like this. It was only fair to him that she shows her secret.

 

“I’m a witch.”

Charles scoffed, “What? Don’t pull my leg,  _ mija _ .”

“I’m not!  _ Mira _ .” d’Artagnan held her hands out and focused her energy to create an apple. d’Artagnan didn’t see, but Charles’ eyes widened. Not out of fear, but surprise.

 

“Have you always been able to do this?” Charles asked as he pushed d’Artagnan’s curls away from her eyes.

“Yeah. It’s- it’s not just this. I can do tricks with water and fire.”

“You have a gift. But I know it’s dangerous. I know why you hid it. I’m guessing Aramis doesn’t know, either?”

“No. Please don’t tell him.”

“I won’t,  _ mija _ . It’s not mine to tell.”

‘Thank you.” She offered Charles the apple with a grin. He took the apple with a grin of his own.

 

“Papa d’Herblay, what are we going to do about Dior? She’s going to tell her parents… I’m scared.”

“I know,  _ mija _ . I’ll talk to them.”

 

d’Artagnan wanted to go now, but she had to stay calm. Her anxiety could get the best of her.

 

_ It has to work out. I deserve to be here. Who cares if I’m a witch? _

 

**〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜**

 

Apparently the priest decided to believe Dior’s claims that the d’Herblay girl was a witch. Of course the priest wasn’t prepared to deal with a bonafide witch. He turned to Paris for help. And what did Paris send? The Cardinal’s Red Guard.

 

The Red Guard were a group of degenerates. The Cardinal sent them to deal with a witch. Instead, all of Béarn burned.

 

The captain, Labarge, was starting in the village’s center and working outward. The d’Herblay home was on the edge of town. Charles had gone to fight the Red Guard. d’Artagnan hadn’t seen him, or Aramis, for almost an hour.

 

Flames could be seen in the distance, and the screams… All d’Artagnan could do was calm the horses. And that was no easy task. d’Artagnan was doing everything she could to not be trampled. The other farm workers were scattered, either keeping the d’Herblay house standing or keeping Béarn from falling. d’Artagnan silently prayed to the gods that her family was succeeding, because she wasn’t doing great herself.

 

A shout pulled the girl out of her prayer.

“d’Artagnan!” Aramis appeared in the stable’s entryway.

“Aramis! Where’s Papa?”

“d’Artagnan, we have to go.” If she was worried before, she was terrified now.

“Where’s Papa?!”

“He’s gone, d’Artagnan!”  _ Gone? No. No no no no NO! _ She froze.

“d’Artagnan, listen to me. Béarn is fallen and we have to leave before we’re killed.” Aramis snapped her out of her trance and they began preparing Henri and Pierre.

 

**〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜〜**

 

This should have been the first time d’Artagnan had to run away. At 13, d’Artagnan had to fight to survive twice.

 

The horses’ hooves pounded in her ears. She wasn’t sure where they were going. All she could focus on was following Aramis.

 

“Come on, Henri. Don’t fail me now.” d’Artagnan was trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t remember that Papa d’Herblay was dead.  _ Papa. I’m so sorry, Papa. This is all my fault. _

 

d’Artagnan and Aramis must have ridden for 30 minutes before the latter finally stopped. d’Artagnan noticed the dark smudges on Aramis’ face.

“My God, Aramis. Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing,” Aramis responded with a cough.  _ Fuck. _

“Aramis. Aramis, where are we going?”

“I- I’m not sure.” Aramis pushed his shoulder-length hair back. “I thought we could be safe further in Gascony, but now so sure.” He coughed again.  _ He must have breathed in a lot of smoke. _

“Wherever we’re going, we need to figure it out. Soon. You’re in no condition to travel.”

“d’Artagnan, I’m fine,” Aramis coughed. “We could try Paris.”

“Paris? That’s about a day-and-a-half’s ride, are you sure you could handle it?”

“I should be fine. It’s, it’s nothing, really.”

“Do you have food? Money, anything?”

“No. You?”

“No. I’ll just have to resort to my old tricks.”

“Tricks? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Let’s just get to Paris in one piece. Then we can talk about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking a shot in the dark and publishing my writing for the world to see. I've always been super secretive about my writing, but here we are. Hope you enjoyed! Leave a kudos and a comment! Follow my tumblr phantom-of-notre-dame-7 for updates and general ridiculousness.


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